


Was it something I said

by Strathmoresmith



Category: Booksmart (2019)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21556612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strathmoresmith/pseuds/Strathmoresmith
Summary: **12/16/19 - Edited and added**Hope's POV (Pre/Post hookup)--“God damnit,” Hope’s forehead hits the green tile, a bit harder than she meant to; blaming it on the joint she’d been nursing previously, and not the butterflies that were fluttering around in her mind. The cold water runs down her body, soaking through her bra and underwear. She turns the handle toward the hot water and dips her head underneath the stream letting it pound her, trying to wash away most of what just happened.
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	Was it something I said

“God damnit,” Hope’s forehead hits the green tile, a bit harder than she meant to. Hope blames the joint she’d been nursing previously, and not the butterflies that flutter in her brain. The cold water runs down her body, soaking through her bra and underwear. She turns the handle toward the hot water and dips her head underneath the stream letting it pound her, trying to wash away most of what just happened.

 _What the in the actual fuck?_ She thinks as the last of the puke disappears down the drain. This is a first, if she’s being honest with herself. A whole bunch of firsts. The mid-party shower, the puke. The unsolicited butt stuff, for sure. But more interestingly, this version of Amy. _What was that? Who was that?_

She’d always known that Amy was more than Molly’s sidekick—She’d seen Amy’s passionate speeches about plastic straws and gender-neutral bathrooms, but that was Amy standing up for others and Hope had wanted to see her stand up for herself. She was tired of Amy always following. Following Molly, Ms. Fine, and especially tired of seeing Amy follow Ryan aimlessly around. Which is why Hope pushed her, in retrospect, maybe a little unfairly, the jab about crying in the bathroom was a little harsh. But fuck, she’d finally gotten Amy’s attention, so that had to count for something. Either way, whoever this new confident Amy was, Hope was even more drawn to her than before.

\--

Hope originally retreated into the bathroom to sulk by herself. After seeing Amy’s magnetic pull in Ryan’s direction, she was officially over it. Over the party, over high school, and finally, so fucking over those freckles.   
She’d spent the last two years agonizing over how to get noticed with no progress—and it was clear that Amy only had eyes for the SoCal skater, which Hope was not, nor could be. In a desperate attempt Junior year, she’d pathetically attempted the happy-go-lucky attitude with no success. Everyone had asked her if she was feeling okay, before she retreated back into to her brooding self, and promised she’d never try to be someone she wasn’t again.

So, frustrated by her unchanging predicament and Amy’s newfound confidence regarding Ryan, Hope abruptly stood up from the couch where she had been stewing and made her way to the front door, ready to leave, when Annabelle grabbed her.

“Dude, you okay?” 

“I’m out.”

“What? Why come on, it’s our last night as high schoolers!” Her words slurred a little.

Hope stared across the room just long enough to see Amy and Ryan leave the kitchen, hand in hand. Now even more pissed, Hope turned back to retrieve her arm from Annabelle’s grip to see that the girl has also witnessed their departure. Annabelle’s face transformed into a frown and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

“Do I need another reason, or am I allowed to go?” Hope said irritated to have received the sympathy.

“Just wait, one second.” Annabelle’s eyes lit up, and with her free hand she dug in the back pocket of her jean shorts, revealing the better part of a joint. “I don’t recommend smoking this outside, if you want it to yourself,” she hands it to Hope, “happy graduation.”  
\--  
Hope turns the knob off and wipes the excess water from her arms, while she stepped out of the shower. She surveys the bathroom, her clothes are everywhere. God, and there feels like way more puke, somehow. She grabs her jeans and struggles to pull them up her wet legs. She pulls on her shirt over her damp bra, and grabs her jacket, putting it on as well. 

Hope stares at Amy’s underwear for a beat. She’s bending down to grab them when she hears the shrieks down the hall. 

_Cops._

“No, no, shit,” Hope pleads, as she looks around the bathroom. There’s not even a window she could crawl out of. _What kind of bathroom doesn’t have a window?_ The panic starts to set in, as Hope scrutinizes the room for a hiding place. _The shower? No, too obvious._ She takes a deep breath and tries to compose herself. The bathtub? _Fuck, that’s so stupid._ Hope imagines the cops walking in and her gangly limbs spilling out of the tub. _Maybe they’d feel bad for me and let me off easy?_ Hope looks at the door, and contemplates making a run for it. But, she can now hear the music has been cut, which isn’t a good sign. Running is out of the question now, too. She’s a sitting duck. Twenty minutes ago, Hope’s personal pity party had been barged in on by Amy crying over the sink, only to set these bizarre series of events into motion, and now Hope is about to get busted by the cops. _The sink!_ Hope’s mind interrupts herself with the realization that she could probably fit in the cabinet.

Once Hope has pretzeled herself underneath the sink, she realizes that she’s clutching Amy’s underwear in her hand. Hope silently swears at herself and prays that the cops don’t find her in this position, at least not while holding someone’s underwear in her hands. She quickly stuffs them into her jacket pocket.

Almost on cue, there’s an authoritative knock on the door of the bathroom. Her breathing ceases. She hears the door open and the echo of heavy boots inches away from her hiding place. Hope freezes even though she’s completely hidden by the cabinet doors. Hope can feel the cop hovering at the corner threshold of the bathroom.

“Christ,” the cop hisses. “There’s vomit here, too?! These fucking kids can’t hold their alcohol, god-- I don’t get paid enough for this.” She can feel him turn his weight and leave the bathroom. 

A smirk creeps up on Hope’s face. _Is this real?_ She tosses her head back to chuckle, and hits the back of her head in the cramped cabinet. As she lightly rubs it, she remembers she the bruise on her forehead, from the shower tiles. Even though her head has taken a beating, she runs through a mental to-do list, while waiting for the coast to fully clear. One; Thank Amy for saving her, and Two; return a pair of underwear.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feeling inspired by the movie, and also the great stories I've read-- so thanks! Maybe more to come? I don't know. Also, trying to also post on tumblr - strathmoresmith
> 
> **12/16/19 - Edited and added**  
> Thanks for the notes, thought about it a little and restructured and added to it. Hopefully, you guys like it!


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